PRIVILEGE
I
The name he called me lost,
his face circles around me
like the sound of water at night,
of water falling into water.
And his smile is the last survivor,
not my memory.
II
The most beautiful
in the night of those who leave,
oh beloved,
is your endless unreturn
you, shadow until the day of days.
Alejandra Pizarnik
Translation by Lydia Merriman Herrick